


We're Not Who We Used To Be

by alilyinhighgarden



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Fluff, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Post-SummerSlam 2017, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alilyinhighgarden/pseuds/alilyinhighgarden
Summary: Because of the late hour Seth was surprised when he heard a knock on the door. Looking through the peephole he recognized the last person he expected to be on his doorstep. Dean looking unassuming in jeans and a white t-shirt and absolutely perfect.“Hey,” he said, brow furrowed, “Is everything all right?” He peeked out into the hallway to see if anyone else was with Dean. Though that was silly, he had only ever traveled with one pack and Roman was sure to be off with his family tonight.“Yeah,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “Can, uh, can I come in?”Post-SummerSlam 2017





	We're Not Who We Used To Be

**Author's Note:**

> This story was fueled by lots of talk about Seth and Dean getting reacquainted with each other after their reunion last summer and was soundtracked by "Two Ghosts" from Harry Styles. 
> 
> Shout out to by beta Kyrene3. 
> 
> Also, reminder that Seth looks at Dean like he hung the moon.

Once again Seth found himself as one part of a champion tag team. Years ago after a monumental win the night would be spent celebrating alongside those who had become like family faster than he would have thought possible. But this was not 2013. It had been five years since he won the tag belts the first time. So much had happened since then. Rather than being surrounded with smiles and laughter Seth was in a quiet hotel room with a brand new title and completely alone. 

This whole week Dean’s reluctance at their pairing had been obvious but days of doing events together in preparation seemed to have chipped away at that. By the time they stepped into the ring with The Bar everything clicked. There was not any hesitance or anger. They were a team again. After the match they were living off of the high of the victory and everything felt right. It was a feeling of peace that he had not felt in a very long time. 

Once they came down from the high that feeling of rightness did not stay. After a brief interview and a few minutes backstage they went off to separate locker rooms, cleaned up separately, and left the arena separately. Seth had thought about asking him if he wanted to do something to celebrate but the question caught in his throat. Now it was one thirty in the morning and he was just sitting in his hotel room letting whatever Comedy Central happened to be showing play. He was not paying attention to it, instead his focus kept going to the red belt sitting at the foot of the bed. This was the first time he and Dean had won a title together. If there was a picture of bittersweet in the dictionary he was pretty sure the visual of him alone in his hotel room beside the title he had just won with the man he loved more than he had been able to express who he had also hurt more than any person should be hurt would fit perfectly. 

Because of the late hour Seth was surprised when he heard a knock on the door. Grabbing his cell phone he pulled up the front desk number in case it was some crazed fan that had managed to track down what room he was staying in. Looking through the peephole he recognized the last person he expected to be on his doorstep. He relaxed and immediately opened the door for Dean looking unassuming in jeans and a white t-shirt and absolutely perfect. Seth’s stomach flipped. He realized that his mouth was hanging open and closed it, the bit of embarrassment he felt tempered by the nervous way Dean was shifting from one foot to the other.

“Hey,” he said, brow furrowed, “Is everything all right?” He peeked out into the hallway to see if anyone else was with Dean. Though that was silly, he had only ever traveled with one pack and Roman was sure to be off with his family tonight. 

“Yeah,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “Can, uh, can I come in?”

“Yeah man,” Seth opened the door wide and stepped back.

“Do you need anything?” As Dean entered Seth couldn’t help but notice his eyes lingering on the belt he now possessed the mate to. “I have a couple of beers in the fridge.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose, “You drinking now.” 

“Only good stuff. Not that cheap shit you’d grab from the gas station before we’d head back to hotels.” 

That brought a real smile to Dean’s face and Seth felt like he had just slid into his favorite hoodie.

“Well, give me some of your best,” Dean said as he plopped down on the bed, as if he had done this every night for the past three years. 

Seth tucked his head and quickly turned around, hoping to keep the grin he could feel breaking out on his own lips controlled. 

By the time he retrieved the beers Dean had made himself comfortable on the bed and changed the channel from what Seth had left it on. The familiarity of the scene made his chest ache. This used to be a regular occurrence before he fucked everything up. In another time he would have yelled at Dean to at least take his shoes off but now he was just so goddamn glad that he was there that Dean could stand up on the bed and do a tap dance after walking through a muddy field and Seth would cheer him on. 

“Here.” He handed Dean a bottle while he took the place beside him, readjusting his pillow so he could sit more comfortably. 

“Gracias.” Dean tilted his beer in Seth’s direction before taking a sip. “That  _ is _ good,” he hummed appreciatively and glanced at the label. “Should have gotten you to start drinking before. Would have saved my taste buds.”

Seth let out a noiseless laugh. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to be at the door,” he admitted, picking at the edge of the label on his beer bottle.

“Oh yeah?” In his periphery he could see Dean looking at him with an eyebrow raised. “Expecting someone else Rollins? Should I go so your date can come in.”

“No. Not like that,” Seth rolled his eyes, “I thought you were some out of control fan or something.” Perhaps unnecessarily he added on, “I wasn’t expecting anyone.” 

Dean moved toward the edge of the bed. “I can get outta your hair if y-“ 

Without thought Seth grabbed his arm. “No!” It came out more exuberantly than he would have liked so he repeated, “no,” softer this time, and let go. “You’re the best company I could have tonight.”

“Okay then,” Dean said and toed his shoes off before settling back in. Seth took that as a good sign. One that he had decided this would not be a short visit. 

Seth tried to think of something to say but everything he came up with sounded wrong for one reason or another. Instead he opted to keep his mouth shut and watched whatever conspiracy documentary Dean had found. He could not say he was paying much attention as it droned on. All of his focus was on the man sitting beside him. Purposefully he was not looking at him, that would probably be creepy or draw questions, but as always Seth felt like he was tuned into a radio frequency that only picked up Dean Ambrose. Every sigh, every swig of beer, every “hmm” at a point made by the show, every run of his fingernails along his jeans. Seth may not have seen it with his eyes but he could clearly picture what was happening. This was weird, but also not, because _of course_ Dean was here in his room after a win. But also _Dean_ _was in_ _his room_ _after a win_! 

Eventually the silence did give way to conversation. It was easy and effortless. Normal. Being able to just hang out and talk was an unexpected relief. 

It started with talk about wrestling, because of course it did, it was what they both lived and breathed. Back when Seth  _ actually _ hated Dean, during his early days in FCW, he had still respected the hell out of the passion the man displayed in the ring. Some of the stand out matches from the night came up and included some generous gloating about their own performance. They discussed likely challengers once they beat The Bar one more time. Seth told him about his school and Dean was truly interested, inquiring about all the little ins and outs, even gave a few helpful suggestions pulled from his years of experience. 

Dean asked about his family and Seth remembered how his mom once confided that she often had the urges to both hug Dean and run from him at the same time. An instinct in her saying that he was something to be loved and feared. It made her worry for Seth when they became allies. He had never shared with her when their relationship had moved to something more. It was almost ironic that the one she should have been afraid of was the person she most wanted to protect. 

Eventually Seth slid the conversation- okay, alright, slides is too casual a word, more like intentionally nudged- Seth nudged the conversation toward Dean’s life because it could be an enigma if he did not want you to know about it. “How’s Vegas?”

“It’s the same,” Dean picked up a bottle from the bedside table between his index and middle fingers and took a swig. It was stupid to hold a bottle like that Seth thought and yet Dean made it look impossibly attractive. It was one of those moments that felt like he was channeling some mix of James Dean and John Bender. It should be illegal for him to be that cool. 

Rather than groan out of… something... Seth cleared his throat and continued his line of questioning. “What do you get up to out there?” 

“Whatever I want to. Hiking, mountain biking. You know. Whatever.”

“You got someone to tag along with you on these adventures?” Seth both wanted to hear the answer and feared it. What if he had someone. Like  _ had someone  _ had someone. Would it even matter? 

There was a moment where nothing was said and Seth wondered if he had managed to somehow read his mind and deemed that those thoughts crossed a line.

Fortunately it was only a moment. “Nah. You know the number of people I want to spend time with can normally be counted on one hand.” 

He turned his head and Dean was smiling brightly at him. It brought butterflies to life in his stomach because Dean genuinely smiling, bold and honest and happy, could probably bring a forest to life even in the coldest winter. 

Seth licked his lips because they felt dry, probably because his mouth was hanging open a bit. “Do you think I could be one of those people?”

“I’m here tonight, aren’t I?” The answer came too quick. Too easy. It felt like a dodge even though it technically wasn’t. 

“What about after tonight?” The rhythm of his heart picked up and Seth wished he could stop himself from hoping and pushing. He wished he could be happy with just relishing the moment but he was not wired like that and it frequently got him in trouble. 

The smile he was just admiring faltered but did not fade entirely and those piercing blue eyes became a bit guarded. “I don’t know yet.” He sounded sorry about it and Seth used that fact to console himself. 

“Okay,” he nodded, “Yeah.” 

“It’s just-“

“Don’t dude,” Seth interrupted with a wave, “I get it. It’s only been a week since you decided-” Decided what? That he could trust him? Seth is pretty sure the jury was still out on that one. That he didn’t hate him? Maybe but it did not seem like a good time to bring that up. “Since you decided.”  

Dean does not say anything else but he reached out and patted Seth’s leg, letting it rest there a second longer than necessary. 

An ‘ _ I don’t know yet’ _ was not a ‘ _ no _ ’ and  _ that _ is something Seth thinks he could work with.

“So tag team names, huh?” Seth asked before he took a swig of his beer.

“Huh,” Dean replied, confusion written all over his face.

“Earlier, before the show, when we were talking to Charly, you said you had a list of tag team names.”   


“Oh. Well- that was bullshit.” Dean gave a dismissive flick of the wrist, “Those questions were stupid. I mean, why have people submit questions? Isn’t it  _ her _ job to come up with the questions? It just seems like she’s slacking on her job. She should be careful about that.”

Seth smirked, “You  _ did _ come up with names, didn’t you?”

“What? No.”   


“Tell me some of them,” Seth demanded, sitting up straighter on the bed. 

“I told you there aren’t any names,” Dean replied in a tone just three notches down from what could be considered a shout. 

“Sure.” But Seth was sure that his expression showed exactly how much he did not believe him. 

“I swear to god Rollins if you keep this up,” Dean warned with a shake of his finger. 

“If I keep this up what,” Seth looked at him, jaw set in a challenge.

“I’ll have to shut you up,” Dean said and met Seth’s challenge with one of his own. 

“Really,” he raised his eyebrow, “How do you plan on doing that?”

Dean’s lips pulled into a dangerous grin. “I’ve had years of practice finding ways to shut you up. Trust me, I could do it if I wanted to.”

Dean was right, over the years he had found plenty of ways to get him to shut up. Most of them were incredibly violent. But before Dean found all  _ those _ ways- back when they were partners instead of enemies Dean’s tools for silence were far more enjoyable. The thought sent an electric pulse straight down his spine.

Seth cleared his throat. “Fine. I’ll drop it.” 

“Not just dropping it Seth. Admit that you were wrong.” 

“I admit that you definitely do not have a list of tag team names written down and tucked into your bag.” He concealed his smile with another sip of his drink. 

“Good,” Dean said the telltale dimple giving away his own smile. 

Once the conspiracy documentaries had ended, transitioning to something about WWII, Dean had given up control of the remote. Now Will Smith in a shockingly neon outfit was making some face on the television Seth was still not paying much attention to. 

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then decided to get out the two words he felt impossibly compelled to say. “Thank you.”

Dean look over at him, clearly tired and confused. “For what.”

Seth let out a deep breathe. “For everything.” 

“That could cover a lot,” Dean rubbed his fingers along his collarbone, “Wanna be more specific?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “For working with me tonight. For helping me fight off those goons the last couple of weeks. For not making this so fucking awkward,” Seth eyed him hopefully, “For forgiving me.”

It was obvious that the last one was a question. And it was obvious that he did not deserve Dean’s forgiveness but he thought— hoped—  _ prayed _ that he had it.

“Well, I’m a grand slam champion now so it worked out in my favor, didn’t it?” He said and rested his hand on Seth’s shoulder. 

He covered Dean’s hand with his own and smiled, “I guess it did.”

Not for the first time this week Seth was struck with the certainty that he did not deserve  _ any _ of this. The titles, the fans, but most of all the warmth of Dean’s hand under his. It was overwhelming and he wondered if he could ever move past the guilt. He had accepted who he was now. Hell, he even liked who he was most days. But he still felt the weight of the decisions he had made. It could be tiring at times. 

He dropped his hand to trace along the rim of his mostly empty beer, focused on the condensation on the side of the glass. “And I know I said it a couple weeks ago but- just- god dude, I’m so fucking sorry. I was-“

“Stop.”

“But I need you to know-“

“Fucking stop Seth,” Dean sat up straight and stared him down, “I wanna enjoy this. Sitting here with you feels normal. I’m not trying to walk through our whole fucked up history right now.”

“Okay,” Seth said, eyes cast downward like a child who had just been admonished.

Dean sucked his teeth. “We’ll talk about it at some point, alright? Just. Not tonight.” 

“Okay,” Seth said more firmly this time.

“Thanks,” Dean settled back into the pillow, letting the laugh track fill the room.  

One episode of the Nick at Night lineup melted into another and eventually the sun started to peak over the New York skyline. No matter how hard Seth had tried, staying awake proved impossible. He kept closing his eyes, thinking he was just blinking but definitely drifting off. Each time he opened them back up he was shocked to see Dean still there beside him, having nodded off himself some time ago. He looked peaceful and still, two adjectives that would not commonly be associated with Dean Ambrose. The other was unguarded. It had been years since Seth had seen him like this. Despite the familiarity of the situation those years were obvious on Dean’s face. Where he once had boyish good looks he had become grizzled, lines forming where the skin used to be smooth. It was a change that he wore well. Seth wanted to reach out and run his fingers along the hair that now lined his jaw but he quelled that impulse both because he did not want to wake Dean and because, well, he was afraid. 

Seth had to keep convincing himself that Dean was real and here and that  _ they _ were a team again, at least in the ring. If earlier parts of their conversation were any indication maybe they could even be friends. Seth had to lock away the part of him that wondered if they could be  _ more _ again. That would be too much to ask of a man he once tried to shatter. No matter what he did he was not sure he would ever deserve that level of forgiveness. Still, whatever little bit Dean was willing to give would be enough. 

Without warning Dean’s eyelids fluttered open and Seth knew he was caught so he did not even try to look away. “Hey.” His voice was hoarse. It always got that way when he had been sleeping for a bit. There is a comfort to be had in the things that had not changed, Seth’s glad that Dean’s rough, sleep laden voice is one of them. 

“Hey.”

“What time is it,” he asked as he stretched out his limbs, his shirt riding up to reveal the toned stomach he usually kept hidden. Seth never understood the point of working out in their business if you were not going to flaunt your hard work. 

“A little after 5:00.” 

“Damn,” he said and sat up, looking around for his phone. “I should get going. I can still get a few more hours of sleep.” This is how Seth knew that this was reality. In his dreams if Dean moved it was  _ closer _ to him. In his dreams Dean did not leave. 

But this is not a dream and Seth had no right to suggest otherwise so he just mumbled, “oh, yeah,” and shifted off the bed himself, cracking his neck. 

Dean grabbed his phone and stuffed it into his pocket along with his hands before walking around the bed. Somehow they make the walk to the door take much longer than it should considering it was a regular size hotel room. There was some solace to be had in the idea that Dean seemed as reluctant to leave as Seth was to see him go. 

Before it could be opened Seth leaned against the door. 

Dean’s eyebrows raised, “You know that’s the exit right.”

Seth sucked on his bottom lip, “I know.”

“You know that’s the way I need to leave, right?” He was trying to sound annoyed but the amused glint in his eye gave him away.

“I know,” he nodded, “But before you leave I wanted to say thanks.” 

“Not this again.”

“No, no. This isn’t about any of the stuff I mentioned earlier. I just-“ he tucked his chin and laughed, “God this is going to sound stupid.”

“Now I’m curious,” Dean nudged at Seth’s foot, “Come on. Spill.”

“Shit. Okay.” He looked up at Dean through his lashes, “Just- thanks for being you.” 

“Being me?” Dean’s eyebrows officially disappear into his hair and he did not do much to hold back his laugh.

“Yes, just- this was nice. Getting to hang out with you. It was nice. I’m glad it was nice okay?”

“Shut up,” Dean said, laughing even harder now. 

Seth groaned and threw his head back against the door. “Why am I such an idiot?”

“Didn’t I say shut up,” Dean persisted but Seth did not listen, instead opting for continued bemoaning about his inability to be smooth. That was until two rough hands were on either side of his face. Seth’s eyes flew open and Dean was closer than he had been when he had closed them.

“You really didn’t listen to my threat earlier,” Dean smirked. Before Seth could ask what he was talking about his mouth was occupied by the warmth of Dean’s lips. It was completely unexpected and took him a moment to react but once his brain caught up he melted easily into the kiss. His hands came up to grab onto Dean’s shirt and pull him closer. The other man laughed against his mouth but easily complied pushing his body against the door and dropping his hands to rest on Seth’s waist. 

For the first time in a long time Seth did not feel the crushing guilt of his terrible decisions pressing on the periphery of his thoughts. Even if it was just for a moment Dean’s lips served as absolution for his sins. 

This was surreal. They were there, in his hotel room, together, and all that seemed to matter were teeth and tongues and wandering hands and a heart that was pounding so hard it echoed in his ears, like it was exclaiming how  _ right _ it all felt. It was a moment he had often dreamed about but never thought he would have again. 

Of course some things are different. Three years have passed. The stubble on Dean’s cheek- he used to shave every morning- that’s new. The taste of Dean’s lips are no longer tinged with the hint of cigarettes. Seth wondered when he gave them up. The way he smelled- he must have changed what deodorant or cologne he used. These things have all changed and remind Seth that this is a man with new layers to peel back. He wondered if this kiss meant that Dean will let him.

He was not sure how long they stood there, pressed up against the door, but when Dean pulled away Seth immediately ached for that connection even though Dean did not go far. He rested his forehead against Seth’s and stayed there, eyes closed. Seth watched him, wishing he could look into his brain and see what he was thinking. He was about to ask when Dean spoke, voice low and gravelly. “God I missed that.”

“Yeah,” Seth said wistfully. The word served as both a question and a confirmation

Dean opened his eyes and it felt like he was looking straight into his soul. Seth could only hope that he liked what he found.

“Yeah,” Dean repeated.

He could feel Dean’s breath on his lips and it sent chills down his spine. This was the closest they had been since June 2, 2014 and all Seth wanted to do was take Dean in. Inhale in his breathe, imprint his touch, meld together with his soul. That's how it always should have been. But Seth fucked that up. No matter what ground Dean conceded in the last few hours Seth knew that  _ those  _ sentiments were a bit too much too soon to lay out there. So he did not say any of those things. Instead he offered, “You could stay.” He traced his thumb along Dean’s jaw like he wanted to do earlier. “Just a few minutes ago my bed was comfortable enough to sleep.” 

Dean’s lips pressed together and for a moment Seth felt hopeful. “I can’t. Not today,” Dean took Seth hands in his own and stepped back, creating space between them but still keeping them connected. “But maybe some other time.” 

It is not a rejection- more a caution, Seth knew that. Dean putting any bit of trust in him was still an exercise in faith and Dean had never been known as a spiritual man. They are just placed back together and are fragile, like the glue had yet to set and the wrong bump could cause things to fracture again so it was best not to push. Who knew if Dean had even thought about kissing Seth until he was doing it. So he relents. “Okay,” he nodded and stepped out of the way of the door.

Dean put one hand on the door knob and gave the hand he was still holding a squeeze. “See you in a few Seth,” he said and opened the door. 

“Yeah,” Seth grinned, “See you in a few.”

He watched Dean walk toward the elevator, receiving a lopsided grin when he looked back and saw Seth’s head poking out. Dean gave an comically exaggerated wave before he stepped inside the elevator. 

Seth felt fuzzy all over but also bone tired. He laid back on the bed, this time in the spot where Dean had taken up residence. The pillow smelled like him. As Seth’s eyelids grew heavy he had the thought that the most consuming type of forgiveness is the kind you don’t deserve but receive anyway. Any thoughts that would have come after that were halted by unconsciousness. 


End file.
